card games
by bread011
Summary: sick days and confessions (Chrobin Week: Holidays)


The day was going okay enough. Until Robin had lost to Chrom in a game of cards for the fifth time; it was odd. The prince wasn't a stupid fuddy-duddy, he'd proved that well enough over the years. But Robin's sheer tact and skill for card games won over his any day.

It was around that fifth time, when Chrom slammed down his deck in victory, cackling, that Robin felt their vision shift. At first they thought it was because Chrom might actually think he was getting good at this game; he wasn't. It was just a bad day, or at least Robin would tell themselves that. They'd always been better at this game. Way better. Chrom just came coming back because he thought he'd have a chance to win every time. Every time he lost, and Robin won. Still, they both sat down at the round table, shuffling cards and keeping the secrets in their hands.

The tactician had their suspicions about Chrom's motives. The first few times he came back from failing to "knock them off their stool", they thought maybe he really was determined to beat them. Then he just kept coming back, and back, and back. After a week of playing the mundane game, Robin was getting bored. But Chrom kept them coming back, insisting they play more.

Robin knew the prince had more than just feelings of camaraderie for them. For gods' sake, the man was a fumbling mess around them most of the time. They couldn't say any less about themselves, though. The prospect of being close to Chrom sent their heart fluttering out of their chest. Robin was also a nervous wreck around him.

But that really wasn't a big concern at the moment, because the tottering vision wasn't stopping. "Hey, Chrom," Robin tried speech, "Is the earth tilting for you too?" Their vision was getting worse. Chrom was almost doubling now, moving viciously in front of them.

The prince halted his victory dance, "Huh?"

"It's kinda weird," Robin was searching for the right Chrom to look at. "Stop moving!"

"Um, I'm not moving."

"Oh." How strange. Robin was definitely getting sick. Fast. With as many healers as there were around the barracks, Robin decided not to get worried, though.

Chrom, however was obviously worried. He was standing, and reached the tactician just before they started falling over in their own seat. "Gods, Robin, what's happening?"

Robin laughed with dizzy amusement, "I'm probably just getting sick. It is winter time. Flu season, you know?" It was winter time, and several of the Shepherds had already fallen victim to the annoying ailments. The barracks were full of coughing and sneezing, and most of the army stayed in bed these days. With so many sick, it was impossible to go on missions. Not to mention the cold. And the snow.

The holidays were around the corner, not exactly a great time to be sick. Robin had even made special plans for them and Chrom. What a rip-off. At least the barracks and palace were nicely decorated, and being stuck inside wasn't too bad. It was a lot cozier than being frozen in tents; at least you could be warm here.

"Are you sure this isn't a curse? I mean, Tharja does have this odd fixation for you." His eyes shifted around, more than likely looking for the dark mage. Chrom was trying in vain to keep Robin upright, but their body was becoming dead weight.

"No- She wouldn't do such a-" The words fell just as their body went limp into Chrom's hold. Gods, they were suddenly so tired.

Chrom tried to keep his composure, stiflings a groan. Maybe it was a laugh; Robin's face was comically smashed into the princes stomach. "No wonder I was winning… You are sick."

When only a muffled groan produced from under him, Chrom settled for carrying the other to their bed. When he picked them up they had apparently decided it was time to talk, because they would not keep quiet the whole way.

"Chrom, I have a confession to make," Robin started talking. They shut their mouth after a second, closing their eyes. Were they waiting for Chrom's permission to go on?

"Go on, Robin."

"Oh, right." They'd forgotten they were even talking, and Chrom had to suppress the laugh rising in his chest. "You know last week when we were in the basement? I was working on my tactics and you were watching? Remember, and you left to help Lissa with something?"

"Yes," what were they getting at? Chrom definitely remembered that day. He didn't know they knew he was watching them. He'd thought he was being sly, only sneaking peaks out the corner of his eyes. They loved working side by side. Well, Robin worked but Chrom just pretended to read books and scrolls on war. It was always quiet, but Robin never kept secrets from Chrom. They practically worked as one. They knew each others thoughts.

"Well, when you left," they paused. They already regretted what they were about to say. "I- Well, you see-"

"Robin, it's okay. I won't be mad." Reassurance.

They hesitated for a moment, then spoke all at once. It was like a dragon breathing fire. "Okay, well when you left I kinda used falchion to slice an apple! I didn't really think you'd mind, so I didn't ask. I mean, you just left it sitting there. I'm really sorry, I won't do it again. I know how important and special that sword is. It was really hard to use actually, its so heavy. Not good for slicing anything that isn't human. You don't have to give me a lecture. I mean, if you want to you ca-"

"Robin!" The man carrying them had burst, his deep voice thundering over the smaller person.

"Sorry-" Robin was sniffling. "I knew it was a bad idea." Their head was so foggy.

They'd reached the room at this point. Robin was looking up at Chrom, tearing up. When Chrom returned a sympathetic look full, round tears were descending their face. "I'm not mad," he was giggling. "Gods, you must really be sick; I've never seen you cry over something as silly as this. Just don't do it again, okay?"

Robin was starting to look the part of a sick person now, eyes puffy and nose turning a bright red. The tears just added a dramatic effect. They were starting to pout, "Don't laugh at me, Chrom, that took a lot of courage to say."

"And why were you telling me this now?" Chrom set the tactician on their bed.

"Because- What if I die? How could I die with something like that on my shoulders?" Robin was suddenly concerned about dying.

The response elected another laugh from Chrom, but he stopped when Robin threw a pathetic glare at him. "Okay, okay." He tucked them under the blanket, making sure it covered them completely. "You're not going to die...today." When Robin rasped, Chrom had to strain his chest so the small giggle couldn't escape, but offered a smile. "Kidding, Rob, get some rest."

Chrom was straightening his posture to leave, but in a split second bent back down to give Robin a quick, gentle kiss to the forehead. He didn't even notice the tactician was already sleeping.

Closing the door on the way out, he couldn't help but make a mental note to keep his sword out of their reach from now on. And maybe get better at playing card games, too.


End file.
